


and i will never turn away from the light

by ZephyrEden



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Growing Up, M/M, Pre-Canon, Young!Xehanort, young!eraqus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrEden/pseuds/ZephyrEden
Summary: Eraqus has always loved two things – the Light and his best friend. But loving both meant loving equally and loving equally meant knowing he’d never sacrifice one for the other, despite often wishing that he could. Then again, he isn’t quite sure he wants to know which one he’d give up on first.





	and i will never turn away from the light

Eraqus has always loved two things – the Light and his best friend. But loving both meant loving equally and loving equally meant knowing he’d never sacrifice one for the other, despite often wishing that he could. Then again, he isn’t quite sure he wants to know which one he’d give up on first.

Looking back from where he is now, though, staring at the empty space Xehanort occupied just a moment ago, he thinks he might be getting close to an answer.

 

 

They’re young when they first meet.

Their Master brings home a boy older than him with golden eyes and silver hair and Eraqus thinks with certainty that even with the limited number of years he’s lived thus far, he’ll never see someone as beautiful as him again. His name is Xehanort and he introduces himself in a low and silky tone that rings in Eraqus’ ears for the rest of the day and the nights that follow. He knows he will never meet another person like Xehanort.

Eraqus is friendly and tries to get along, but he finds the way Xehanort stares off into the distance to be intimidating. Even when he tries to start conversations, he often just gets pointed stares in return for his efforts. Still, he doesn’t give up. Little by little, he starts to weasel single word responses from him. Still, it isn’t enough.

They don’t start to really talk until their Master has them sit down for a game of chess. It’s over a game of chess that Eraqus feels like he gains a glimpse of what lies behind Xehanort’s eyes for the first time.

Eraqus stares at the golden piece he’s just taken in confusion. “You’d sacrifice your queen that easily?”

“Of course,” Xehanort says simply, like it’s a given. “And why shouldn’t I?”

Eraqus’ brows furrow, exasperation taking hold. “Because it’s your most powerful piece!”

“Why?” Xehanort continues in the same tone, eyes cast down at the board, calculating. “Because you assigned it value based on appearance?”

Eraqus scowls. “Because that’s how the game works.”

Xehanort smiles and Eraqus feels his heart stutter for the first time. It’s painful and terrifying and he wants to feel it a thousand times over.

“Never judge a person’s power by their appearance, Eraqus.”

He wants to melt at the sound of his name in that voice.

Xehanort moves his piece gracefully across the board. “Even a pawn can overtake their masters if they aren’t being paid attention to.”

Eraqus checks back to reality and stares at the board in offended astonishment and Xehanort’s smile turns into something cheekier, his hands folded under his chin. “Checkmate.”

“When did you-“

“You would be wise to pay more attention to the balance of power, Eraqus.”

It’s not the last time he says it, either.

No, over the years that pass between them, Eraqus listens to Xehanort talk about balance quite often. It makes sense to him and their Master never says anything to the contrary when he overhears their conversations about it, so he supposes at the very least the core belief isn’t wrong.

You cannot have good without evil. You can not have darkness without light. The duality of nature and the universe isn’t some grand epiphany. Xehanort likes to talk about the balance of it all, though. When the Master has to leave them for days alone in the castle to train on their own, sometimes Xehanort will remark that perhaps there’s too much evil in the worlds, that they’re meant to be the balancers by doing acts of good.

Eraqus is okay with that line of logic. It’s the opposite one that he starts debates over.

Chess has become a regular part of their lives. It’s odd now if they go a day without playing at least one game. But it’s not just a battle over pieces anymore. It’s a battle of wits, of philosophies, of beliefs.

The Keyblade War becomes a frequent topic. They’re both too familiar with the story, what with all the times their Master has told it, and the prophecies that come with it. Eraqus doesn’t believe in unchangeable fate and he has a feeling Xehanort doesn’t either, that Xehanort wants nothing more than to not know how a story ends.

There’s a give and take between them as they grow, marked by more compromises than disagreements. There is one thing they can never settle on, though. Eraqus is unashamed in his love for the light. It worries him that Xehanort seems so neutral towards the darkness. He tries not to bring it up, though. If their Master is unfazed by it, then he should be as well. Besides, he knows Xehanort can make his own decisions and he’s smart enough to not make the wrong ones. He trusts him enough to believe that.

 

 

They first kiss when they’re older. Young still, perhaps even too young to become Masters, but they pass their Mark of Mastery with flying colors and minimal effort.

Eraqus isn’t sure what comes over him. They bow to their Master, quiet and respectful, then walk out to the forecourt. The second Eraqus’ feet hit the grass, though, he feels a surge of adrenaline – bravery – overtake him.

“Xehanort!”

Xehanort barely has time to turn around, his golden eyes going wide as he sees Eraqus leaping towards him. They meet in clash of lips and a tangle of limbs, falling to the ground from the momentum of the collision. Xehanort wants to mind, wants to be irritated at the childishness of it all. But there’s arms around his neck and the lips moving against his are soft in a way he isn’t used to feeling. He doesn’t fight against his lowering eyelids or the hands that go to Eraqus’ waist and he devours the quiet gasp the other lets out when his lips part.

Eraqus is a fool, but with the way warmth is spreading through his chest, Xehanort thinks he may be a fool, as well.

 

 

Eraqus is unashamed in his love for Xehanort and it grows stronger every day.

Now as Masters, both students find themselves being sent to other worlds to iron out problems as subtly as possible. There are less debates, less conversations, and less chess games. But Eraqus has ways of making up for it. Xehanort becomes more comfortable every day with the fleeting kisses meant to say “welcome home” and “farewell” and he isn’t sure which of them is more surprised when he starts initiating them, as well. The brushing of limbs when they pass each other starts to turn into more purposeful touches, lingering caresses that never see the light of day when they’re sneaking into each other’s room at night.

It hardly ever escalates to anything, not when there’s still a wavering fear of getting caught. They revel in the feeling, though, of being pressed together in a way that’s gentle, tender, and intimate. It’s the way that Eraqus has always felt inside and the same way Xehanort has never experienced. It’s intoxicating and addicting and he doesn’t think to fear the desire inside him that always wants more. The desire to always want and be wanted.

He’s softening around the edges, but he can’t find it in himself to let Eraqus go, especially not when the thought only presents itself when he’s sleeping soundly in his arms. He needs to find something else to harden his heart with, so he turns his attention elsewhere. He knows what he’s doing, what will happen in the long run.

He can never fully ignore the ache in his ribs that comes from always being left wanting.

 

 

It’s when their Master disappears and Eraqus is given reign of the Land of Departure that things start to change. Or maybe he’s just forcing himself to face what he’s known for a while now. He’s not pleased with either conclusion.

Because he knows that when Xehanort flies away it’s not to help other worlds. He knows the pauldron on Xehanort’s shoulder is just for show and that he never presses it when he enters the Lanes Between.

They don’t have debates as much now as it is Xehanort preaching emphatically about the worlds falling out of balance, how everything is covered in too much Light. Eraqus doesn’t think he’s ever feared the Darkness, but his wariness is starting to shift closer to horrified terror the more he sees what it’s doing to his lover.

“Xehanort,” he calls out softly on the day he decides to confront him.

Xehanort smirks at him in a way that reminds him of being children again, of being naïve enough to think things would always work out in the end. “I wasn’t going to leave without a kiss,” he teases, walking up to steps to press their lips together.

And truly, Eraqus could never resist him. He can’t deny what may be their last kiss. His hands hold Xehanort’s face softly, tenderly, but his lips are not as gentle and he tries to force everything he has ever felt for the man in front of him into this moment until he can only taste heartbreak on his skin.

When he pulls back, Xehanort’s golden eyes are hazy and dazed, but when they clear and he looks up at Eraqus he knows what’s happening. He always knew this time would come.

“Farewell,” he waves, the movement too casual for what just occurred.

“Xehanort,” Eraqus calls again, ignoring the way his voice breaks on the name.

Xehanort stops in the center of the courtyard, but doesn’t dare to turn around, not when he knows he’ll remember the look on Eraqus’ face for the rest of his days.

“You stopped wearing your armor when traveling between worlds,” he states evenly, factually. It’s better if he tries to keep his emotions out of this. “You know the Darkness preys on those that travel unprotected.”

Xehanort smiles to himself, lifts his chin to look over his shoulder without actually looking. “I’m not afraid of the Darkness, Eraqus.”

He hates the way he still wants to melt every time he hears his name in that voice.

“Only a fool doesn’t fear that which can overtake them,” Eraqus says pointedly, remembering a lesson he was taught all too long ago. “And I never took you for a fool, Xehanort.”

“The only fool here is _you_ , Eraqus,” Xehanort grits out and he turns around to face him and this, _this_ is a face he can remember. Eraqus is not pleading, he is not angry, he is not disgusted. He is steeled, standing tall with the pride and determination of one called Master. He is wounded, there is no hiding that, but he is fierce and unmoving. This is what he knew Eraqus could become. He only regrets that this Eraqus won’t be his. “You worry about another succumbing to the Darkness, but you can’t see yourself drowning in the Light.” He shakes his head. “My heart is strong. I will use the Darkness before the Darkness can use me.”

He summons his keyblade and transforms it into the set of wings that cling to his back and lift him into the sky. “This world requires balance, Eraqus, and I will be the one to bring it.”

Eraqus watches as Xehanort flies towards the sun, some symbol of forgotten divinity silhouetted by the light, then disappears into the darkness that envelops everything beyond the walls of the world.

 

 

It’s after a few years of silence in the Land of Departure that Eraqus comes to several conclusions.

The first is that his edges have hardened. He doesn’t feel the gentleness that guided him through his younger years; he has forgotten entirely how to be tender.

The second is that he has lost all faith in the ideals of balance someone once made him believe in. He loves the Light unwaveringly and it’s only the Light’s uncorrupting embrace that can be trusted. He has lost the ability to believe in anything else.

The last is that his heart still beats with the memory of Xehanort’s hand pressed against his chest to feel it. He hadn’t loved before Xehanort and he knows he won’t love after Xehanort. And he also knows now, with absolute certainty, that even if his heart was taken from him he’ll never be able to stop loving him. No matter how much he hates himself for it, he knows his love for Xehanort is just as unwavering as his love for the Light.

He learns to love the ache in his lungs that comes from always being left wanting. He cherishes the reminder that he once had everything he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> [how you love me//3lau ft. bright lights](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EontVq0lFcs)
> 
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> 
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